


superhero-ing

by Cloudnine101



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Bruce Knows All, Crack, Holidays, M/M, Sassy Peter, Wade Is A Friend To Birds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudnine101/pseuds/Cloudnine101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"We'd like to speak to you about the Avengers initiative," Suit says. </em>
</p><p><em>Peter holds up his hands. "Err, no," he says. "Thanks."</em> </p><p> <br/>aka </p><p> <br/>The one where Wade wants to go on vacation, Bruce Banner is a fashion godsend, and Spiderman is approached by Shield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	superhero-ing

When Peter wakes up, there's a funny taste in his mouth, and his phone's buzzing. He doesn't get up to check it - just reaches out a hand, and webs around on the table for a couple of seconds.

The mobile hits him in the nose, but whatever. It's worth it.

 _You have three missed calls_ , the screen reads, _from Wade._

Peter shoves the phone away, and sinks back down into the mattress. He sighs.

“Hey, Petey! Just calling to let you know that I'm already up, and that I miss you! I mean, well, yeah. I miss you a bit. I'm too busy being badass to miss you much. But, uh. A bit. A little bit. But I've kinda gotta dash, so wakey wakey, sleepy head! It's a brand new day!”

"Ugh," Peter says. He covers his face with his hands.

“And the day of our trip, in case you've forgotten. Which you haven't. Obviously. Who'd forget about me? That'd be weird. Okay, I'm gonna hang up now. Bye.”

_Beep._

“Hi, Pete. It's Wade again. Sorry about that. I got caught up in some, um, business. You know how it us. You come into your toilet, and bam! There are three bad guys in there! Not that I was calling you whilst going to pee. That would be weird. And there weren't any bad guys. Just saying. I mean, come on? In my bathroom? Why - hang on - ”

_Beep._

“You remember what I was saying about the imaginary bad guys? Turns out, there were some more in the kitchen! What do you know? Not that you should be worried. I'm fine. Kicked their asses. Not that they - uh - right, so, Peter Parker, it is the morning! And the morning is the time for doing! They're both verbs! Kinda. Not. They have -ing! It's fine! I think.

“See you soon, Petey Wetey Gumdrop. That's probably too much. Is that too much? Yeah that's - I'll see you soon. Like I said ten seconds ago. Or eleven. Whatever! There are even birds up here! Real ones! I even caught one! It's huge! I got one for you, so we can match. Do you want the pigeon, or the sparrow? Because I hate to say it, but - oh, dang - ”

_End of messages. To save, press one. Play again?_

Peter hits the pillow four times, and then webs it across the room. It sticks to the wall.

 

 

Peter makes breakfast. He has a glass of soda, and a bagel, because bagels are comfort food, and he needs comforting right now. So, bagels it is. With extra sugar. Because _come on._

After that, it's to the bathroom. Peter puts the mobile outside the door - just in case it rings, which it probably will. Wade's a busy guy, with all of his imaginary baddies. Too busy to call. Too busy to text. Too busy to say what the heck is going on.

Peter's not going to make the first move, though. That would be childish. And needy. And Wade's probably just messing with him, so it doesn't matter that much, anyway.

Even so, he keeps the phone. In case of emergencies. There could still be a fire, or something. A ten minute long fire, just to keep him occupied. Yeah.

Peter washes his hair three times. He uses Apple Scented Shampoo, which Wade said he liked that one time (and that is not the reason he picked it). He even puts on cologne - and yes, he does own it. Of course he does. Not self-respecting vigilante wouldn't.

He brushes his teeth for four minutes (because dental hygiene is important), and then he flosses, and then he goes to the wardrobe.

Now, this - this - is the tricky part. Because even though Wade claims he isn't handsome, he is. Yes, he has his scars, and seems to be totally comfortable with the idea of Peter never seeing his face ever - but he's got eyes like - like weird, witchy things.

Point is, Peter's going to have to pull something out of the bag on this one. Something big. Something _special_.

 

 

"I don't _know_! _I don't know what to do!_ "

On the other end of the line, Bruce sighs. “I hate to say it, but's it's just clothes, Pete. How hard can it be?”

" _This_ hard." Peter buries his head in his hands. "He's gonna hate me."

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. Peter can just see it. “He won't hate you. How could anybody hate you? Just pick out a shirt, and be yourself.”

"Look what happened the last time I did that! Half the city burned down!"

Another sigh, and then - “Wade isn't MJ, Peter.”

"I know."

“And he's not going to leave.”

"I know." Peter shakes his head. "It's just - "

“A shirt," Bruce says, "and some jeans. Put your hand in. Pull something out. We'll do it together. Ready?”

Peter nods. "Ready," he echoes.

“Alright,” Bruce says. “Here's what we'll do. I'll count down from three, and you'll open the wardrobe back up, and you'll grab something. And it will not take half an hour.”

"You're the best, Brucie."

"Try telling that to Tony Stark," Bruce says. “Come on. Hand out. Three. Two. One - ”

 

 

"Thanks again, Bruce. I couldn't have done it alone."

“It wasn't exactly brain surgery.” Bruce chuckles. “Don't forget your toothbrush.”

"Toothbrush. Gotcha." Peter rubs at his neck. "Thanks. Have fun saving the world, Avenger."

“I won't,” Bruce says.

Peter spins around. The hairs on his skin tingle. His chest buzzes. He itches. He stings. "If this is about government experimentation, you're about a decade too late. I know what you creeps did to Bruce, and it is not pretty."

"Peter?" Bruce says. "Are you - ?"

"Hang up," the man says. Peter does.

The man's not that tall. He's not that short, either. He's got slicked-back hair, and he's holding a briefcase. He's wearing a pinstripe grey suit, and a small smile.

"Hello, Mr Parker," he says. "I'm Agent Coulson. I'm here on behalf of Shield."

"Shield?" Peter wracks his brains. "You're those freaky new age nut jobs! The ones who covered all of Tony Stark's media footage!"

"Among other things," Suit says, "yes. We did."

Peter nods. "How are you in my bedroom?" he says.

"You left the door unlocked."

"No, I didn't. Oh, wait. That's what you'd say I did, if anybody asked. Clever. Sneaky."

"We'd like to speak to you about the Avengers initiative," Suit says.

Peter holds up his hands. "Err, no," he says. "Thanks."

Suit only blinks once. Peter's impressed. "Mr Parker," he says, "we are aware of your abilities. And the last time we checked, you were still active."

"Well, you've got faulty information." Peter folds his arms over his chest, and assumes (what he hopes is) a decidedly haughty expression. "I'm on vacation."

"Vacation," Suit says, and Peter nods.

"Yep." Turning around, Peter proffers his bag forwards. "You've caught me at a bad time, pal. So why don't you go back to base, and I'll catch my flight?"

One of Suit's eyebrows creeps up his face. "Where are you going?" he asks.

"Spain," Peter says - and even as he says the word, something warm begins to build in his chest. Spain. It's exotic.

Suit's face is a blank. He's smiling carefully. "I hear it's lovely this time of year," he says. "At every time of year, most probably. I haven't had time to check."

He frowns, slightly, as though he'd actually come to check Peter's holiday plans - which, if it's true, is too many levels of weird to count.

"Okay," Peter says. "Thanks."

Suit nods. "Well, when you get home," he says, "we'll be in touch."

"Okay," Peter says, again. "Thanks. Um. Can I get you anything, or - ?"

Suit hums noncommittally. "Can I use your bathroom? Only it's been a long morning."

"Sure. Knock yourself out."

"Thanks," Suit says. He seems to be waiting for something.

"It's just next door," Peter says.

"Thanks." More waiting. More waiting. _More_.

Peter sighs. "You're going to bug my apartment, aren't you?" Suit has the decency to look slightly guilty. "Whatever. It wouldn't be the first time."

"I'd appreciate it if you could go out of the room anyway," Suit says.

"Fine," Peter says, and does.

 

 

There's another man sitting at the kitchen table. He's got his boots up on a chair. His hair's all over the place.

"Hey," the guy says. "Where's Coulson?"

Peter shrugs. "Heck if I know," he says. "Who's Coulson?"

The guy rolls his eyes, and his shoulders. He's holding a pretty impressive looking bow. It's big, and shiny, and has lots of knobs and dials and things on it. Wade would probably twist some of them, to see what they did.

"Coulson," the guy huffs. "The man who was talking to you? Five minutes ago?"

"Oh, _him_." Peter smiles, as best he can, with an enormous arrow in the proximity of his face. Even though it's not pointed at him now, that's not to say it won't be. "He's using the bathroom. You're his lackey, right? Do you want some juice?"

The guy seems consider this, for a moment, and then heaves his shoulders. "Yeah," he says.

"Coming right up," Peter says, and grabs a couple of glasses down from the shelf. In his pocket, the mobile buzzes. "Hang on a sec."

The guy nods, and folds his arms across his chest. He doesn't look away. Peter turns away.

“Hey, boyfriend!”

Peter winces. The guy raises an eyebrow. "Hi, Wade. What's up? 'Cause this is kind of a bad time."

“Oh. Oh. Are you okay? Are you getting dressed? 'Cause that's a mental image I need. Do not need. Just thinking about that, and - um - you. I mean, so pretty. And. Err. I didn't wake you up, did I? Sorry. I wanted to have something ready for you when you did wake up. I wasn't actively attempting to make you. That would be rude."

"Problem?" the guy says.

"Boyfriend," Peter mouths.

The guy nods. " _Ah_."

“Pete? Are you still there? Hey. Nobody's hurting you, are they?”

"No. No, I'm fine." And might not be for long, but that's show business! "How are you?"

“I'm buzzing! I've got those birds I found!” Peter can't help but smile - because only Wade. Only Wade. “Can we take them with us? Please?”

"No, we can't," Peter sighs, "they'll just poop everywhere. And we'll get stopped at border control, and then we won't be able to get on the plane."

“Boo,” Wade says.

"I've gotta go now," Peter says. "I'll catch you later, alright?"

“Alright-y, Peter Pan!”

"Bye, W - " The line goes dead. "-ade."

Turning back around, Peter tries not to notice quite how white the guy is, and fails.

"Did you just say Wade?"

"Err - yeah?" Peter hazards. It seems to be the right thing to do, because the guy's lip twitches.

"As in - Wade _Wilson_?"

"Yes?"

The guy's quiet. Then, he smiles. It stretches out across his face - and he clutches his stomach, and doubles up in hysteria. "Oh my God! Wade Wilson? Wade Wilson's your _boyfriend_?"

From the doorway, there's a cough. Suit's mouth is still downturned. "All done," he says. "Am I missing something?"

"W-Wade," the guy chokes out, "Wade! Wade Wilson! Your _asset's_ dating Dead-"

"Agent Barton."

"-pool! Oh my - this is - I've gotta tell Nat, she'll flip - "

"Agent Barton," Suit says, again.

" - out, she'll never believe me. Can I take a photo? Because I'll need - " 

 " _Clint_." 

The guy straightens up.

"Sorry, sir," he says, face smoothing down. "Won't happen again."

Peter's never seem anybody's expression change that fast.

"See that it doesn't," Suit replies - but unless Peter's eyesight is getting really skewed, he's definitely _smiling_. Which. Okay.

"Dead? Whaddya mean, Dead? Is Wade safe? Has something happened? What have you done to him? Is he alright?"

Suit nods. "Yes," he says. "I'd imagine that he is."

The guy - Agent Barton - stands, pushing back the chair, and shadow-stalks over to the door. Suit follows him, still _smiling_. It just looks _wrong_.

"Have a good vacation, Mr Parker," Suit says. "We'll see you when you get back."

He steps through the door. Agent Barton moves to follow him, but then turns around, and says, "Thanks for the juice. And nice shirt. Very - bright."

"No problem," Peter says, and, over his shoulder, Barton throws him a wink.

The door shuts, and they're gone. Just like that. Their footsteps echo down the corridor, two little _clip-clip, clip-clip, clip-clip_ patterns.

"Something doesn't feel right about all this," Peter says.

It takes him five seconds to figure out precisely what it is. When he does, Peter sprints over to the door, and tears it open.

"I didn't give you my number!" he yells - but there's nobody there. To be honest, though, he highly doubts they're going to need it.

His mobile buzzes.

Peter rolls his eyes, and chews on his lip, and goes back inside, and locks the door. He stands still, for a second; he switches on his phone. Resting his elbows on the table, he leans forward, and grins.

"Hey, Wade," he says. "Sorry about that. Got caught up in something."

“Peter! I knew you'd call me back! Didn't I say he would?”

Pete frowns. "Who are you talking to?" he says.

“Oh, nobody. Just the voices in my head." Wade giggles. "Are you getting excited yet? Because I'm excited. Hey. Do you think we could get pizza? 'Cause I'm starving. Famished. _Mm_. I could murder one of those things. Twice. Six times, even. And dump it out the window.”

In the back of Peter's mind, a tinny alarm bell begins to ring. _Ding-a-ling-ling._

"Wade," Peter says. He breathes out, and then smiles. "Listen. I know this is gonna sound really, really weird. But - uh - have you ever - maybe - heard of Dead - ?"


End file.
